Like they tried to change Reblogs and people rightfully got up in arms, this is a LOT worse. In order to have access to any sort of thing dubbed mature, and We haveALL seen what they think is mature, Everything from a black and white photo of a black woman's arm, to posts about IUD recalls, to a nude painted by a 17th century artist, to anything involving the word Trans; you have to send your personal information to a third party site that WILL get hacked, and you will be doxxed. And they can say "Oh shit, well it wasn't us who sent your name address and gender identity to Moldovan teenagers, here's a couple extra minutes in the ball pit.
That's bad enough!!!!!!!! But the entire idea of needing permission from state authorities to access anything labeled mature by our friendly AI overlords is some fucking Boll shit. Die Gedenken Sind Frie baby. This is all a reaction to people getting uppity about their lowly lowly rights and is being propped up by the same bad actors tht have made life unlivable. Fuck that shit.
"Well it's only being rolled out in Brazil and UK" Yeah, to start. "Well they're being forced to do this by laws." YOu know it's always really funny when these tech giants (Or whatever you call owning tumblr dot com) get really antsy about laws considering they pick and choose which ones they abide by.
This is a breaking point and it's going to be very interesting to see how we proceed from here.
Before I log off, im sure you guys have heard about the blackouts in Cuba a result of the oil blockade by the US. Please consider donating this group that is planning to bring direct aid to cuba
watching iwaizumi’s arm flex is basically the equivalent of seeing a triple rainbow while winning the lottery and finding a forgotten twenty in your pocket.
wc: 1.5k, request
things always starts with something, and that something is a stray volleyball. or rather, it started with the way the sleeve of his t-shirt strained against his skin when he reached up to catch it.
most people look at iwaizumi and see a pillar of stoic reliability, a man who probably has his taxes filed three months early and drinks his coffee black like a soot-covered coal miner. they see the furrowed brow and the “i’m five seconds away from punting oikawa into the stratosphere” expression. but you? you were a scholar of the fine arts. and by fine arts, you meant the divine architecture of his upper arms.
𓏵
you were currently draped over his bed like a particularly dramatic rug, chin propped on your hands as you watched him reach for a textbook on the top shelf.
“hajime,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of a thousand sonnets. “do it again.”
iwaizumi froze, his hand hovering near a copy of advanced sports physiology. he didn’t even have to look at you to know you were staring. he could feel your gaze—it was palpable, heavy, and slightly terrifying, like being stalked by a very thirsty mountain lion.
“do what again?” he grumbled, though his ears were already beginning to turn a shade of pink that rivaled a sunset in a shoujo manga.
“the thing! the reach! the way the lateral head of your tricep does that little… zloop thing!” you made a frantic, clawing motion in the air. “it’s a geological marvel. it’s the eighth wonder of the world. move aside, great wall of china, we have hajime’s right arm.”
he let out a sound that was half-strangled groan, half-dying tea kettle whistle. he grabbed the book and turned around, trying to look stern, but failing miserably because his heart was currently performing a drum solo against his ribs.
“you’re a menace,” he muttered, tucking the book under his arm. “they’re just… arms. i use them to hit balls and carry groceries. there is nothing ‘geological’ about them.”
“blasphemy,” you gasped, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling as if seeking guidance from the heavens. “those aren’t just arms. those are boulders carved from the finest marble. those are mountains that deserve their own national park status. if i could shrink myself down and live in the crook of your elbow, i would. i’d pay rent. i’d bake cookies.”
iwaizumi sat down on the edge of the bed, a safe distance away from your grasping hands, but his eyes were soft, molten with a devotion he tried so hard to bury under layers of “ace” bravado. he was a goner. he’d been a goner since middle school, but having you—the person who held his entire soul in the palm of your hand—worship his muscles was doing things to his brain chemistry. it was like his grey matter was being replaced by sparkling confetti.
he was hopelessly, embarrassingly enamored with you. if you asked him to walk to the moon, he’d start practicing his vertical jump. but your specific fixation on his biceps? it confused the absolute hell out of him.
“i don’t get it,” he said, his voice dropping an octave as he rubbed the back of his neck. the movement caused his bicep to bunch and swell, and you let out a tiny, pathetic whimper. “oikawa has muscles. a random guy named berto has muscles. why are you looking at mine like they’re a five-course meal?”
you sat up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, your eyes wide and shining with a terrifying intensity. “don’t you dare bring that trash-king into this. his arms are like noodles compared to yours. yours have… character. they have grit. they look like they could stop a speeding train and then gently tuck a kitten into bed. they are the physical manifestation of safety, hajime!”
you scrambled closer, your knees hitting the mattress with soft thuds until you were kneeling right in front of him. the air between you suddenly felt thick, charged with the kind of electricity that precedes a massive thunderstorm.
iwaizumi’s breath hitched. he was a tough guy. he could take a spike to the face without blinking. but you? you being this close, looking at him like he was the only thing in the universe worth noticing? it made him feel like he was made of glass.
“can i?” you whispered, nodding toward his arm.
he couldn’t have said no if his life depended on it. he would have handed you his literal heart if you’d asked, dripping and beating, but for now, he just gave a curt, jerky nod.
you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly. when your skin finally met his, it was like a circuit had been completed. your fingertips traced the curve of his bicep, feeling the heat radiating off him. his skin was slightly rough, dusted with fine hair, and beneath it, the muscle was as solid as a tree trunk.
“holy—,” you breathed, your voice barely audible. “it’s like touching a warm canyon.”
iwaizumi let out a shaky exhale, his eyes fluttering shut. he was trying so hard to remain composed, but his pulse was thrumming in his throat. he wanted to pull you into his lap and never let you go. he wanted to bury his face in your neck and tell you that he’d spend every day at the gym until his arms were the size of melons if it meant you’d keep looking at him like this.
he was so desperately, painfully in love with you that it felt like a physical ache in his chest.
“you’re so weird,” he choked out, but his hand moved of its own accord, his fingers ghosting over your hip.
“i’m a connoisseur of greatness,” you corrected him, leaning in until your forehead rested against his shoulder. you inhaled deeply—he smelled like clean laundry, salt, and that specific hajime scent that made your brain turn into mush. “seriously, if you ever feel sad, just look in the mirror at your arms and remember that you are carrying around two masterpieces of modern engineering.”
he let out a short, breathless laugh, his chest vibrating against you. “i’ll keep that in mind.”
he shifted, finally giving in to the gravity pulling him toward you. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. his biceps—those legendary, mythical biceps—were now squeezed against your sides, and you felt like you might actually ascend to a higher plane of existence.
“is this okay?” he asked, his voice rough and vulnerable. “even though i’m not ‘flexing’ or whatever?”
you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder. “hajime, you could be a literal stick figure and i’d still be vibrating with affection for you. the biceps are just the delicious, muscular cherry on top of the world’s best sundae.”
he squeezed you tighter, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder. he felt a wave of pure, unadulterated adoration wash over him. he didn’t care about the volleyball, the scouts, or his reputation as the “mean” ace. in this moment, in his room with the afternoon sun spilling across the floor, he was just a boy who was utterly ruined by the girl in his arms.
“i like you more than godzilla movies,” he whispered into your collarbone.
you gasped, pulling back to look at him with faux-horror. “even the 1954 original?”
he looked you dead in the eye, his expression so sincere it made your stomach do a backflip. “even the 1954 original.”
“wow,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his face. “that’s… that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
he leaned into your touch, his eyes softening as he watched your thumb trace his lower lip. he felt like he was floating, untethered from the earth, held down only by the weight of your hands on his skin.
“i mean it,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate hum. “i’d let you stare at my arms for the rest of our lives if you stay right here.”
you grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “does that mean i can use them as a pillow during our movie marathon tonight?”
iwaizumi let out a huff of laughter, pulling you back down onto the bed with him. he positioned himself so you were tucked firmly against his side, your head resting right on the peak of his bicep.
“yeah,” he sighed, kissing the top of your head. “you can use them as a pillow. just don’t expect me to let you go anytime soon.”
as the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the room in hues of orange and gold, you drifted off to sleep, feeling the steady, powerful rhythm of his heart beneath your ear and the solid, comforting strength of his arm beneath your head.
iwaizumi stayed awake for a long time, just watching you breathe. he looked down at his arm—the one you praised so much—and for the first time, he didn’t see just muscle and bone. he saw a place where you felt safe. he saw a part of himself that you loved.
he really, really needed to start doing more curls.
n: iwa’s arms are so enchanting, i just stare. and a lil diss to my beloved, obviously.
I opened Instagram today to the news that Shirley Raines, the CEO of Beauty 2 The Streetz, has died. Many people probably know her on here, even if they don't know her name. Her videos of feeding and providing other essentials for the homeless of her community have been reposted across many platforms due to her kindness and unending respect for people so often denied agency and personhood. She did so much for people in need and truly wanted to elevate others with what she had, building confidence and strength in those that needed it most.
The Beauty 2 The Streetz nonprofit has asked that you send love and support to her family, loved ones, and the community she has fostered. The beauty2thestreetz Instagram and Tiktok [able to be found here on Linktree] are both worth supporting and spreading awareness of her mission.
If you have the means, their website has donation options to further her cause and continue to provide necessary support in food, hygiene, makeup, and hairstyling to the homeless community. The utmost respect for a kindhearted woman that will be remembered fondly by those she helped. May Shirley Raines rest in peace and may the people she looked out for see the same time, effort, and kindness she was always prepared to give.
MAGNETIC — jock boyfriend!yuuji series masterlist.
⊹ ᡣ𐭩 — about. the theory of magnetism states that opposite poles attract one another, while the same poles repel. the same case can be made for laws of romantic attraction, where weird girls attract jock boys. or the story in which the all star jock yuuji itadori bags himself a weird girlfriend.
⊹ ᡣ𐭩 — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, sfw, smut, fluff, angst, non-canon compliant, college!au, characters are aged up to 20s, not in chronological order, collection of fics / drabbles, fem / weird girl!reader, jock bf!yuuji. each work will have its own separate warnings.
⊹ ᡣ𐭩 — notes. this masterlist has been a long time coming ! i’m so in love with this series and i hope you guys do too !! i can’t wait to explore the rest of it with you all hehe - m.list ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹
current status: open 4 suggestions! | last updated: 11/08/25!
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ — ONE-SHOTS !
chapter one - the first time i laid eyes on you !
before that day, you thought that you knew everything there was to know about the infamous yuuji itadori. you thought that he was cocky, that he was full of himself, that he was a fuck boy - but after that day, after meeting him, you realise how wrong you truly were. | fluff.
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ — ENTRIES !
one - touch ; mature.
reasons why the all-star jock boyfriend always has to be touching his pretty, ‘weird’ girlfriend.
two - shyness ; fluff.
the all-star jock reassures his girlfriend.
three - team jersey ; fluff and suggestive.
the all star jock asks his freaky girlfriend to start wearing his jersey to games. it shouldn’t be a big deal, right? since she’s always asking to live in his skin and all.
four - growth ; fluff.
the jock boyfriend is proud of how far his shy girlfriend has come.
five - pockets ; fluff.
jock boyfriend loves how many pockets his girlfriend has.
six - pleasure prioritised ; mature.
just some scenarios of an incredibly strong jock boyfriend pleasing his girlfriend in different ways.
seven - poor practice ; mature.
the jock boyfriend has a shitty practice, luckily his adoring weird girlfriend is there to make him feel better.
eight - just the tip ; mature.
our favourite jock takes his special girlfriend’s virginity. well…kind of.
nine - first meetings ; fluff.
a scenario in which the campus’ favourite jock lays eyes on his future freaky girlfriend for the first time.
ten - babies, lots of them ‘em ; mature.
the all star jock has an intense breeding kink that leads him to confess the plans he has for he and his weird girlfriend’s future.
eleven - makeout sesh ; suggestive.
the jock boyfriend convinces his girlfriend that making out is always more fun than studying.
twelve - training pays off ; mature.
the all star jock spend weeks preparing his sweet, weird girlfriend to take every single inch of him. and once she’s finally able to, yuuji itadori realises that training really does pay off.
Check in regularly on the original post when you see it being reblogged. In all likelihood once its reached you it's already outdated. This post is part of this masterpost series compiling fundraisers for Ghazzah and Sudan. I focus on Ghazzah as I am Palestinian and am more equipped to do verifications as I'm more familiar with my own country and its politics and dialect, but if I know a fundraiser for a Sudanese family is legit I will include it here. Here's a link to the first and second post of this kind.
Placeholder (205).
Yousef Helles (206). 6 family members. 752 out of 23k €. EXTREMELY LOW ON FUNDS.
Tawfik Al-Tatri (207). 6+ family members. 10 out of 25k €. EXTREMELY LOW ON FUNDS.
Basem Masoud Abu Zour (208). 6 family members. 1 ILLNESS / INJURY. 6.2k out of 35k USD. LOW ON FUNDS.
Mohammed Khatib (209). 1 individual. 35 out of 10k USD. EXTREMELY LOW ON FUNDS.
Hala Al-Nakhala (210). 13 family members. 775.9 out of 56.5k USD. EXTREMELY LOW ON FUNDS.
Ziyad Nabhan (211). 9 family members. 5k out of 50k € (44k needed for evacuation). LOW ON FUNDS.
Mohammed Al-Deeb (212). 4 family members. 12.7k out of 30k €.
Eman Abdulrahman's family (213). 21 family members. 447 out of 30k $. EXTREMELY LOW ON FUNDS.
Basel Ayyad (214). 8 family members. 1 CHRONICALLY ILL CHILD, NEEDS TREATMENT. 530 out of 60k CHF.
Sajida's family (215). 5 families. 35 out of 30k BP. EXTREMELY LOW ON FUNDS.
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